Not Only Human
by illyna
Summary: Turks - post meteor. Unlikely to be continued, but enjoy what there is...
1. Not Only Human

Not only human…  
__________________  
  
  
  
Change the street,   
Change the decade,  
Still the longing's left inside,  
Why am I too small to carry you?  
Why does twilight make me cry?  
Maybe there's a light that's always on,  
Maybe I'm not only human…  
_______________________________________  
  
  
The fires were finally dying down, the embers that still glimmered echoing the stunning red sunset that stretched across most of the sky. Faint wisps of smoke rose lazily into the hazy sky, fluttering their way as if enchanted, into delicate spirals. If the scene below them wasn't one of absolute destruction, it could easily have been viewed as beautiful. Unfortunately, the stench of death still hung heavily in the air, tainting all who breathed it with the guilt of so many deaths.  
  
The hills were alive with the survivors: camps of people, crouching in the dirt, building shelters out of whatever scraps of material they could find. More arrived to the area daily, carrying what was left of their possessions on their backs. Occasionally carrying what was left of their families.   
  
By day search parties of those still able roamed the rubble below them, pulling out those still alive trapped under the rubble of what was formerly the hi-tech city of Midgar. By night bodies huddled together, by large open fires, keeping off the chill of the wind, eating whatever could be scavenged from the land.  
  
Meteor had been and gone, effectively levelling every being, human or otherwise. Name, rank, gender meant nothing here. Life was the tie that bound.  
  
That night, as the past seven nights since the impact, there were the sounds of crying, screaming, mourning. The sounds of those who were lost, and the reunions of those who were found. There were stories around the fire, singing to keep up the spirits, and recriminations.  
  
A little way off, on a grassy verge away from everyone else, lay a young woman. She was curled up on one side, shivering slightly in the cold night air. Her face was bruised, and a cut marred her forehead, but she had made no effort to clean it. Her hair, once shining, was now covered in dust, and her suit was in tatters where she had ripped bandages for others. She had been part of the search party today, and was still haunted by the deaths that she had encountered, those she has failed to help.  
  
She didn't feel worthy to join the knot of humanity that was grouped behind her. Instead she chose to be solitary, to watch the fires in the city below. As twilight hit, a tear ran down her cheek, cold in the night air.  
  
From behind her a man approached. He had noticed her absence, and though wouldn't admit it to himself, was worried about her disappearance. He had grown fond of her; they had been former workmates, fighting side by side. He wore the same outfit, and his was in a similar state of disarray, yet he had somehow retained his trademark sunglasses.  
  
He approached, and sat quietly on the already damp grass.  
  
"Hey 'Lena."  
  
"Hey." She returned quietly. She continued to stare at the bleak scene below. Silence reigned over both of them, as her friend joined her scrutiny. Finally, she spoke again.  
  
"Look what we've done." Her mind swirled with the enormity of what they had been a part of, of what they had helped create.  
  
Rude, not knowing how to ease her pain, and feeling much of the same himself, settled with placing a comforting hand on her back. Words stuck in his throat. He patted her gently, as though he didn't want to add any more to the burden she was carrying. That they were carrying.  
  
As he moved his fingers over the rough fabric on her back, they encountered a small lump near the base of her neck. Craning his head forward and slipping his sunglasses forward to get a better view in the fading light, he discovered an angry red welt, perfectly circular in shape, with a small glow emitting from its centre. Tugging at her collar gently he discovered another a few inches below, nestled on her spine. Elena, uncomfortable, pulled away from him.  
  
"Sorry 'Lena, I didn't realise…"  
  
She turned to face him, tilting her head so her eyes met his. She had never seen him without his sunglasses before; his eyes were a light green, and shone brightly with the mako that surged in his veins.  
  
"He got you too." She whispered under her breath. He nodded almost imperceptibly. She turned to face the wreckage below once again, the tears running freely down her face.   
  
"That Hojo was a bastard." She stated simply.  
  
_________________________________  
  
What is going on I hear you say... a chapter fic from illy... what will happen next.  
  
Well, I'll tell you, You'll review right now, and then I'll try the next chapter!  
  
As Always, not Belonging to me! Belonging to Squaresoft!  
Lyrics by heather Nova, for the song "Not Only Human" an the Siren album.  
Lady_illyna@hotmail.com  
Take care all! 


	2. Scar Tissue

Not Only Human  
________________________________________  
  
Scar tissue that I wish you saw,  
Sarcastic Mister Know it all,  
Close your eyes, and I'll kiss you cause,  
With the birds I share  
This lonely view…  
________________________________________  
  
Night swirled around, cloaking, choking, hiding the gathering on the hills. The moon, low and full hung lazily in the sky, a sickly yellow, casting a tinted glow over the sleeping forms knotted around, huddled together for warmth. Sleep had wound its way through the hills, enchanting all. Exhausted, humanity slept.  
  
The air, cold and smoky from the recently extinguished flames tickled the throats of the people all around. There was faint snoring, quiet talking, and the occasional sound of a crying child. On the plains wild animals howled, disturbed from their own lives from the shock from the meteor.  
  
Oblivious to this all, Reno slept comfortably, nestled next to a face of rock, warmed by the embers of a fire, and by the young woman cradled in the crook of his arm. The chaos of the past week hadn't dampened his enthusiasm for the ladies, and several confused and heartbroken women had been comforted by his unsubtle charms.  
  
His suit jacket was bundled into a makeshift pillow, shielding his temple from the hard rock, and a small blanket draped over the two of them completed his cosy arrangement. He slept soundly, his brow furrowed as if in thought. Mouth slightly open, breathing deeply, unkempt hair flapping in the breeze of his breath.  
  
He dreamt on…  
  
***  
  
There was only darkness to begin with. And then a cold surface pressed against his back. As soon as his senses became more aware, he realised that he was bound to the metal below him with some kind of leather restraint. His legs were numb, and his mind groggy. He tried to call for help, but his words came out a jumbled slur, indecipherable, even to him.  
  
He was scared, that much was for sure. He tried to tilt his head, to strain his eyes into the darkness, to see something… to see anything, around him. It was of no use, a brace holding him still in every direction.  
  
A sound was heard, a metal clinking, directly behind his head. An unfathomable terror washed over him. A machine whirred into life, a light flickered above him. It soon became too bright for his eyes to adjust; he squinted to try to see who was there.  
  
"Hello Reno," a disembodied voice called to him mockingly, even maliciously. A figure strode into his view.  
  
The man above him was short and spindly with long greasy black hair, and bulbous grey eyes. A surgical hairnet wrapped his head, and a mask covered his mouth, muffling his voice. An off white lab coat, and a set of scrubs completed the outfit. Metal surgical implements jangled jarringly in the pockets. They looked sharp, and ominous.  
  
"What? No hello from you Reno? How rude of you." The man prodded the side of Reno's face roughly, fingernail jabbing into soft flesh. "Not that I expected any, you are always such an egotistical pratt."  
  
Reno strained hard against his restraints, concentrated hard on trying to yell, to make himself known to others in the facility. If there were others that was…  
  
"Hojo," he finally managed to gasp out.  
  
"Oh, so you do recognise me." Ever so casual, like this was just a meeting in a public place. However the glinting metal scalpel in the Doctor's hands said otherwise. "Well Reno, I know you thought you were coming here for a physical, and some Mako implementation before you started your work in the Turks, but I've decided that there is another procedure you would benefit from just as much."  
  
The evil grin chilled Reno to the bone. "You know that pretty nurse that you were talking to earlier, the brunette? The one that you agreed to meet later on?"  
  
Reno's eyes widened in horror. Hojo's smiling mask covered an evil; he could see it in his eyes.  
  
"Oh, she had to cancel, she's dead."  
  
Bile rose in Reno's throat. "Why?" he managed to croak out.  
  
"Because…" Hojo began to hold up several different razor sharp scalpels to the light, examining each separately, "…because I hate your kind. So handsome, yet so stupid. Getting by on looks and brute force, talking their way out of every situation, weaselling their way into people's good books. Whereas good people, hard workers like me, who had to fight every inch to get where they have don't get any thanks at all. All we get is orders, orders, orders. Make this guy stronger, this guy tougher, and this man's handsome, why don't we give him super strength as well? Well? Should I? Create a being that gets everything he wants, everyone he wants? I think not!" He paused for breath and glanced down at the prone figure below him. "Now don't worry Reno. I'm not going to kill you. Just make you a little… prettier."  
  
Hojo loomed large over Reno, blade glistening in his hand.  
  
"This wont hurt a bit."  
  
***  
  
Reno jerked himself awake, just in time to bite back the scream. Cold sweat ran down his neck to the small of his back, and he felt himself shaking uncontrollably. The girl in his arms stirred in her sleep.  
  
Every night it was the same.  
  
Every night he had the same dream.   
  
The same nightmare.  
  
Always ending in the same place.  
  
He pulled an arm free, and ran long pale fingers over the two deep scars that marred his cheekbones. They had never healed well, nor were they ever intended to, and so stood out prominently on the otherwise handsome face. Tears shone unshed in the aquamarine blue eyes, despite his hardest attempts to bite them back.  
  
"Damn Hojo to hell," he murmured, "if he isn't there already."  
  
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Hey hey, I actually did a chapter two! Applaud me peoples! Or even just review me. Actually, I think I'd prefer the reviews on reflection. Like it? Hate it? Tell me!  
Lyrics this time from "Scar Tissue" by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.  
  
I need input! Feed me!   
  
Thanks for the reviews so far.  
  
Lady_illyna@hotmail.com 


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